


Forgiveness is Free

by JemTheKingOfSass



Series: Free Mom verse [2]
Category: Free!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Homophobia, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Mother-Son Relationship, Nanase Yori (Haru's mother), Protective Nanase Haruka
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-01
Updated: 2018-07-01
Packaged: 2019-05-30 14:46:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15098918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JemTheKingOfSass/pseuds/JemTheKingOfSass
Summary: When Haruka was fourteen years old, Yori finally made a decision and moved herself physically away from her son. She had no idea she was moving herself further away than that.





	Forgiveness is Free

**Author's Note:**

> To date, the Nanase parental units have not yet been assigned names. Yori is a unisex name which means “reliable, servant to the public” and Susumu is a traditionally male name which means “to advance, progress”.

 

**

 

_“Do you know when you’ll be back?” Rin asks idly, watching Haru slip on his shoes._

_Haru pauses with one foot hovering above his shoe as he glances up. He smiles. “Are you going to miss me that much while I’m gone?”_

_“Tch,” scoffs Rin with an eyeroll. “Well, maybe a little. I’ve already done everything I’ve wanted to do since coming back to Iwatobi, now I’m ready to get back home. Aren’t you bored?”_

_“No, I'm busy. I’m flattered my high school swim club asked for me to advise them for a week. I’m not the most approachable person.” Haru frowns a little as he stands back up. “But I’ve gotten better at the whole role model thing, don’t you think?”_

_Rin beams at him, knowing this is an indisputable fact. Haru used to shy away from post-race interviews, press conferences, commercials, and anything having to do with tutelage. Over the last few years though, he has come out of his shell, slowly learning how to effectively communicate even when he’s uncomfortable, and giving his numerous fans and adoring public a small piece of himself in return for their support. The world loves Nanase Haruka and it’s nice to see him accept and believe that, and then respond to it. “You really have, Haru. I’m so proud of you.”_

_“Come with me, Rin. Even though you went to Samezuka, I’m sure two Olympic swimmers are better than one. Then we can be together today too.” Haru wears a small smirk, and Rin can see the desire to spend the day with each other sparkling in his eyes, urging him to agree to this._

_Rin huffs out a laugh, gazing over at Haru adoringly. He knows he’ll be lonely and at loose ends all by himself for the day, and loves being with Haru more than anyone else; plus, he really loves advising and showing off for young swimmers who view them both with near god-like status. “Alright Haru, I’ll pull half your workload today.”_

_Haru waits for him in the entryway, with a soft expression and an outstretched hand, tugging Rin in close when he’s near enough. “Good. I love you, you know.”_

_“Yeah, I know Haru. I love you too,” murmurs Rin, pressing a light kiss to the other’s cheek before they leave Haru's childhood home together._

 

**

 

Nanase Yori spends her entire life observing. She sits in the park listening to the birds chirp messages to one another, goes to the market and sees the harried mothers choose food for their family dinners, walks past the harbor and hears the windchimes dance. However, what she has spent her adulthood noticing is the way Life itself swells and drifts around her, she has never controlled it, tamed it. She was an obedient, quiet child, rarely testing her limits or pushing her boundaries. She dreamt of course, like all children, believing with her very essence that there was more out there, beyond what could be seen and grasped. However, nothing that wasn’t a part of her parents’ plan was worth considering for very long. A small part of Yori always wondered what would happen to the rules once she was grown, an adult of her own. As long as she never had to make the rules, she figured would be fine. 

During her last year of schooling, Yori was introduced to Nanase Susumu, one of the brightest and smartest young men in her year. He was a bold and charismatic dreamer, and he seemed to take a shine to her. She said yes when he asked her to join him for dinner, and a few years later she said yes when he asked for her hand. Their lives consisted of balancing Susumu’s career with family obligations in their small seaside town. He wanted to flourish, he wanted to grow, he wanted to experience all the world had to offer with his wife by his side, he had already stayed close to home for his higher education. But his mother needed her child, and Susumu was a good son who respected his mother’s wishes, so they remained in Iwatobi under his mother’s roof, on a hill next to the sea.

Not too long after moving into her mother-in-law’s home, she said yes when he asked if she was ready to start a family. 

Yori was certain of all of Susumu’s questions up until that one. She liked her life as a wife; it was an easy transition from under her parent’s roof to one under her husband’s. She would follow him to the ends of the earth, even though they were stuck in Iwatobi, tending to his needs, complementing his life as the yin to his yang. Being a mother meant being an adult in every sense of the word, being responsible for another life, making decisions with real impacts, and it would take away from trying to be Susumu’s perfect partner. Yori was nervous to step out of her comfort zone, push her limits, commit to something and go for it with all she had. Mothers cannot drift; mothers need to provide roots, but Yori has always relied on the roots of others.

The day Haruka was born should have been, could have been, the most blessed day in Yori’s life. However, the moment she laid eyes on him, she felt a tug on her heart, a small anchor weighing her down. Susumu was pleased that their son was healthy and pink, though not very loud, and he chuckled that Haruka must take after his beautiful wife with not much to say. As she gazed at the tiny breathing bundle in her arms, Yori knew she loved him, she grasped that much, she was already happy that he seemed content to be held by her and she was providing his first moments of comfort. Yet, she was not having the wave of adoration wash over her that she had been promised would threaten to consume her. She felt overwhelmed, but it wasn’t with any positive emotion that she wanted to cling to.

Yori was scared. She has never been a person who provides stability, who wraps others in security, warmth, and home. She has always relied on those things from other people and she was certain her new baby could not offer those to her. 

For the first few years, Yori tried her hardest to follow a new set of rules, ones that she attempted to create for herself and for Haruka. She did everything she knew she was supposed to, although she ended up leaning on her mother-in-law for almost every decision, content to allow this wiser, older woman to set the pace in Haruka’s life. The elderly woman was so smitten with her grandson, Yori happily handed him over as often as she could, allowing them to bond and grow with each other. Her favorite moments were when Susumu was home from work and the three of them could function as a tiny family, doing mundane things like walking to the park or browsing the neighborhood market. These were glorious moments for Yori. She basked in her husband’s glow as a father, and he naturally took control of the parenting so she could support them silently and in the background, how she preferred it. 

Life carried on in this manner, for quite a number of years, until Susumu accepted a promotion and began traveling frequently for work. In past trips, which were more sporadic, Yori would always accompany him. However, now with Haruka, she felt forced to stay back with him. This new wrinkle in her established routine made her anxious and fatigued the longer and more often her husband was gone. Luckily her mother-in-law saw the gradual shift in Yori’s demeanor and she urged Yori to temporarily join her husband, to leave Haruka in her safe, loving, capable hands in the absence of his parents. That trip began the first of many spent away from Iwatobi. Yori knew how much her son adored his grandmother, so she felt at ease traveling around Japan with Susumu whenever duty called. 

This became the new normal, Yori and Susumu spending the majority of their time away from their life in the remote seaside village, away from the house that held their child. The pair were in constant motion, working to further a career and support their family from a distance. Susumu ascended the corporate ladder until he was needed permanently in Hokkaido, across the country from Iwatobi and Haruka; Yori remained glued to his side, helping him rise while keeping herself buried in the shadows.

When her mother-in-law passed away, leaving behind a house and a grandson, Yori and Susumu briefly returned to Iwatobi. Susumu traveled back and forth between the ends of Japan, Yori yet again staying behind, until the day Susumu was injured on the job and she alone rushed to his side. Soon she began periodically joining him on his business trips, which became more frequent, until they were both gone every week, leaving behind Haruka to be cared for by friendly, helpful neighbors. Susumu left the choice to abandon his mother’s home and uproot Haruka in Yori’s hands; she did not know how to deal with a decision of this magnitude, so she chose indecision and kept things as they were. 

When Haruka was fourteen years old, Yori finally made a decision and moved herself physically away from her son. She had no idea she was moving herself further away than that.

 

**

 

_“Haru!” Rin shouts with desperation, but Haru’s eyes remain closed, and it takes all his willpower to not shake his partner into wakefulness. His own arm is throbbing and he blearily thinks he might have a concussion from hitting his head on the window so forcefully, but Haru’s side took more of the damage. Rin wants to call emergency services again, make them come faster, so someone who knows what they are doing can help Haru and rouse him. His heart is beating loudly, yet not enough to drown out his fear, and his stomach clenches so painfully he ignores the rest of his body screaming at him._

_Rin clutches Haru’s free hand, he cannot even see the other one, he’s probably squeezing this one too tightly, when he hears a small groan. He stops breathing while staring at Haru’s face, hoping, praying, waiting for any sign that maybe this will be okay, this will all be just fine. Haru’s eyes open a sliver, just as Rin hears the approaching ambulance. Blue eyes weakly lock onto his and Rin can’t tear his gaze away._

_“Rin,” breathes out Haru, before his eyes close again. Rin feels the telltale signs of his inner panicked voice gaining control, his anxiety that he has had a handle on for years threatening to drown out his voice of reason. His whole life has been a battle between them in his head, dread and logic warring for center stage, while maturity and Haru help smother the negativity as Rin ages and gets more comfortable being himself. Sweat gathers at his temples and the back of his neck, his breathing is erratic, his heart is about to explode out of his chest as black spots prickle at the edges of his vision._

_Rin only releases Haru’s hand and closes his own eyes when the paramedics finally wrench open the door to begin their work._

 

**

 

The phone rings and Yori snatches up the offending device, darting a glance at her sleeping husband, hoping this hasn’t woken him. She peers at the time, wondering who would be calling in the middle of the night. It’s an unknown number. 

“Hello?” She speaks quietly, until she is out of the bedroom and well away from Susumu’s slumber.

“Umm, Nanase-san?” An unrecognizable voice, one that sounds hesitant and upset, sounds in her ear. Something tickles her subconscious, she should probably know this person, instinct guiding her to sit down as the man on the other side of the phone continues talking. “Umm, this is Rin, uhh, Matsuoka Rin? Haru’s...friend?”

Ah. She probably should have known the voice but suddenly doubts whether she’s ever spent more than a few minutes talking with her son’s “friend” before. She has never disliked Rin, but does not appreciate the odd ideas, myopic focus, and unacceptable lifestyle he introduced to her Haruka. Haruka had a future following in his father’s footsteps before Rin had swooped back into his life, a life that should have involved meeting a nice girl and creating a simple home with her, along with an actual career to discuss with pride. She can feel herself frowning and shakes her head to clear it off her face, thankful whatever this is hasn’t woken Susumu yet.

“Yes?” Yori’s tone is clipped, businesslike, intending to cut through whatever nerves this man clearly has.

An audible deep gulp of air sweeps through the connection and the first twinge of motherly intuition has her holding her own breath, waiting for Rin to speak. “Haru’s probably gonna be mad at me, but I told him you’re his mom and I know my own mom would kill me if I was in a car accident and nobody told her, especially if she didn’t hear it from me or Haru, I mean she’d come hunt me down in the hospital to make sure I was alive just so she could kill me herself. Hell, all she’d have to do is look at me a certain way and-”

“Stop.” Yori is stuck on just one phrase in the torrent of words he had unleashed, the rest of his babble washing over her, unheard. “Haruka was in a car accident?”

“Oh, yeah, sorry I’m a little, ummm, yeah.” Rin swallows and blows out a huff of air, clearly gathering himself to continue in a more composed, adult way. Yori waits, holding on to her own slowly gathering panic until she knows there is something concrete to worry about. “A few days ago, Haru and I were driving to Iwatobi High School and we got clipped from the side, umm, the driver’s side, and Haru was driving. He’s mostly okay now, just needs to recover and heal. So, uhhh, there’s no swimming for like a month at least-”

“I don’t care about the swimming,” warns Yori, desperate to keep Rin focused on giving her the pertinent information. “Where was Haruka injured?”

“Oh, well, he cracked a couple ribs and punctured his lung,” chokes out Rin, voice thick with emotion that Yori wishes he could and would hold back until the conversation is finished. “He had a concussion, we both did actually, and he sprained his left wrist. But he’s already doing a lot better, he looks so much better than even yesterday.”

“So everything is fine?”

“Well, I don’t know if I’d say fine, I mean he’s alive and it could have been so much worse. Our car is completely wrecked, and we’ll be in Iwatobi for awhile longer than we planned, but that’s okay since we have a place to stay and we have the time off right now."

“You’re both in Iwatobi?”

“Yeah? Haru got asked to be a guest coach for the week at the high school swim club. It’s pretty cool, I mean, he actually came to do it and he was really talkative and excited while interacting with the swimmers. You know how he doesn’t do pressers and interviews and things unless he’s forced, well, I didn’t have to even twist his arm to do this. I’m pretty proud of him.” Rin finally finishes speaking, giving Yori a chance to digest everything. 

Yori feels relief she hadn’t known was lingering on the periphery. “Thank you for informing me.”

“Of course, Nanase-san. Like I said, my own mother would definitely want to know so I figured someone had to keep you updated. I meant to call earlier but...” Rin trails off, second-guessing whatever it is he was about to say, which piques Yori’s interest.

“But what? You could have called earlier with less pleasant news. I don’t mind being told of Haruka’s struggles.” That didn’t come out how Yori intended but it’s the truth. She hasn’t received more than an obligatory weekly phone call from Haruka in years, probably since he was in high school, which is longer ago than Yori would like to dwell on. Her son rarely opens up about his opinions, ideas, obstacles, dreams. He isn’t the most talkative person, which Yori identifies with, but she hopes he has someone with whom he discusses his innermost thoughts. She wonders briefly if the man on the other end of the phone receives them all, if they talk and actually share a life, or merely keep each other physically amused.

Yori isn’t ignorant and she isn’t a fool, she knows what Haruka is now, what Rin has turned him into. She does not approve, but she still yearns for her son to have found someone who listens to him and hears him, even when he isn’t very loud, to understand all the little things he doesn’t say. Perhaps once swimming is finally finished, Haruka will find a way to separate himself from Rin and return to being normal, and develop into someone able to carry on the Nanase family, into someone who she wants him to be. Who Haruka is now is not the man she envisioned when she cradled a small baby boy in her arms.

“Nanase-san?”

“Yes?”

“Do you think you’ll have the time to come see him while he’s recuperating? I think it’d mean a lot to him.”

“I’ll see what I can do. Thank you for calling me. Good night.” Yori hangs up the phone, not wanting to prolong that conversation any further. Speaking with Rin is tugging at something inside of her, a simple request that shouldn’t be that hard to fulfill. Yori is not stupid; she knows somewhere along the way she has irrevocably distanced herself from Haruka and she doesn’t know how to bridge that gap. Her son is a stranger and she isn’t sure how it happened and she isn’t sure what she wants, what he wants. He’s an adult and he doesn’t need her, not like Susumu does, but needs and wants are very different things. 

 

**

 

_Rin has not seen Haru this agitated in a really long time. He stands his ground on the issue, but inwardly questions his stupid intuition and even stupider conscience._

_“Why would you invite her here?” Haru is seething with an underlying twitchiness that Rin thinks looks more appropriate on his own adolescent self than overshadowing the tranquility of adult Haru._

_“She deserved to know what happened, she’s your mother,” insists Rin, digging in his heels. He did the right thing. He’s almost sure of it. Mostly._

_Haru scoffs. “Yeah but she’s not your mother. She isn’t like your mother.”_

_“I know that, Haru.”_

_“Do you? Do you know how much she dislikes the thought of you?”_

_“The thought of me, eh? Well that’s a step up from actually hating me.” Rin attempts to lighten the mood but Haru is not having it._

_“Don’t joke about it, it’s not funny. I don’t want anyone here who doesn’t like you.”_

_“You don’t actually know that she doesn’t-”_

_Haru throws up his hands in frustration, grunting out a groan of pain at the action. He never interrupts anybody, least of all Rin, always patient to let thoughts form and express themselves in their own time. “I do know, okay? Trust me. We’ve had enough conversations with veiled comments and subtle insults and this overwhelming apathy towards our relationship, like if she doesn’t acknowledge it, it doesn’t exist.”_

_“Well she’s never really gotten to know me, maybe once she’s here we can spend some time together and she might even like me a little once we’re done.”_

_“She won’t ever like you, Rin, no matter how much you try to charm her,” argues Haru fervently._

_“Haru, you can’t know that.”_

_“Are you ever going to be my wife and give her grandchildren?” Rin is fully aware of Haru’s mother’s issues, her opinions not uncommon, but he is tired of fighting with Haru. The past week has tested his patience and inner strength, and he’s tired of worrying, being at a constant state of emotional attention._

_“Okay maybe that’s not the term I’d use, and I have faith that adoption laws will change in our favor someday before we’re too old-”_

_“Are you being purposely dense or do I have to spell it out for you?” For the second time in this conversation, Haru cuts him off, his agitation clearly at full throttle. Rin instinctively puts a protective hand on his side as he feels that jab deep in his gut, like Haru elbowed him as hard as he could. The fight leaves Haru’s face as he lays his unwrapped hand lightly on Rin’s forearm. “I didn’t mean that. I’m annoyed at my mother coming here and I don’t want you hurt by her. That doesn’t mean I get to hurt you instead. I’m sorry.”_

_Rin sits on the edge of the bed, reaching forward to cup Haru’s face in his hands. It’s not often he needs to breathe calm into his partner like this, but he is more than capable and willing to restore Haru’s balance if he needs it. They’ve always been a good team, both giving and taking in equal measure. He smiles softly and deepens their eye contact, reaching as far into Haru as he can. “I love you. This is just more static, we’ve dealt with it before. It doesn’t change anything.”_

_Haru gazes at him, defeated, pleading. “But she’s practically a stranger and we’re inviting that attitude into this house, into our space, yours and mine. I don’t care if she doesn’t visit me while I’m injured. I’m fine if she just stays away, that’s what she’s done my whole life, this doesn’t need to be any different.”_

_“I’m sorry, Haru. I thought it was the right thing to do.”_

_“No, don’t apologize. It is the right thing to do.”_

_Haru sighs, then raises his chin and leans his forehead against Rin’s. They sit there together for longer than Rin can keep track of, he doesn’t care, he’ll sit peacefully with Haru until the end of his days if he’s allowed._

 

**

 

Yori reaches back into the taxi and grabs for her small suitcase. She quickly walks up the first set of stairs, the air heavy with impending showers, and pauses to take a deep breath. As she walks up the second set of stairs to her mother-in-law’s front door, a hundred memories assail her at once; she is hit with the phantom feelings of being embraced by Susumu, cradling her infant in her arms, a young clammy hand patting at her leg. She feels them slowly but all at once, rushing over her so vividly she gets dizzy. Yori blinks and can practically see the blue eyes full of tears spilling down youthful cheeks, before being caught on a quivering lower lip. She glances down, a few drops of water have left their mark in splashes on the ground, gradually accumulating on the front step by her feet. She knows it is starting to rain, but wonders if perhaps some of Haruka’s tears can still be seen if she searches hard enough.

Yori lifts her hand to knock on the familiar door, and hears footsteps and low murmuring voices approaching from the other side. The door is slid open with a bang and the same blue eyes from her mind are in front of her, higher above her, she has to crane her neck now, and they are older and drier. The sheen of sadness that Haruka carried when he was younger, and Yori saw in those eyes far too frequently, has been replaced by a tempest, she feels caught in a storm. Perhaps her son is still not happy, not fulfilled, is still searching for Life’s answers. Yori is certain they will never be found in a pool, the record books, or the arms of another man. 

Before any words are exchanged, another presence fills the doorway and Yori feels a weight pressing down on her chest. Keeping her eyes firmly fixed on her son, she clenches her jaw to keep her mouth closed and her face impassive, the picture of good upbringing and social skill. Distantly, she hears the ticking of a clock from inside, while she is still on the threshold, not yet invited to cross over it. In her peripheral vision, she notes a hand being extended towards her.

“Nanase-san, why don’t you come in out of the rain. It’s nice and dry in here,” urges Rin, with a small smile on his face, hand still towards her in a seemingly friendly gesture. Yori peers up at him, scrutinizing, assessing, searching desperately for what her son sees in this person before accepting anything he offers to her. She watches as his expression falters, his lower lip pushes out in a slight pout, his eyebrows draw closer together, the warmth seeps out of his fiery eyes. He looks like a child now, which feels like a better match for her Haruka, forever young in her mind.

“Mother,” pleads Haruka, quietly but forcefully. He must have gotten that from Susumu, who always laces his words with an underlying strength that’s hard to ignore. 

Rin drops his hand and reaches for her suitcase instead. “May I?” 

Yori frowns, tenses her hand around the handle of her suitcase before flicking her eyes back to Haruka. “Haruka can manage it.” 

A loaded stare passes between her son and the man beside him, an entire dialogue exchanged in a heavy silence. Haruka blinks slowly with an expression of such unveiled tenderness Yori flinches in surprise, sure she’s witnessing something not meant for her. A corner of Rin’s mouth lifts up in the tiniest of grins, a response to whatever message Haruka has conveyed. Yori returns her gaze to her son.

“He certainly can, he’s an expert at suitcases, Nanase-san. He’s especially good at spotting our luggage at the baggage claim. He watches with an eagle eye from the back of the hoard of people, and then swoops in and snags them off the belt like a ninja. One of his many talents.” Rin chatters as Haruka turns towards her, reaching for her suitcase. She notices the cloth bandages wrapping around his hand, twisting up to his elbow. Yori’s eyes travel over what else she can see, trying to recall the extent of the injuries as they were told to her. There is some yellow and light purple discoloration along Haruka’s collarbone, disappearing under the edge of his shirt towards his left shoulder. Just as Haruka begins to ease the suitcase from her grasp, long fingers wrap around his forearm.

“Haru, stop. I’ll carry it.” Rin’s face is awash with concern, all traces of his smile vanishing in an instant. “The doctor said even lifting 10 pounds could strain your ribs. You’ve been doing really well, I bet it’s just a few more weeks to go before you get cleared.” 

“I’ll carry it myself,” offers Yori, not entirely sure why she is so resistant to Rin’s generosity. It is irrational, she hears herself being rude and stubborn, but she cannot give in on this. She wants Haruka to accept her into his home; she doesn’t care if Rin invites her in, she is waiting for her son.

Wordlessly, her suitcase is tugged out of her hand, and into Haruka’s. She sighs in relief, before watching him hand it to Rin, their fingers meeting on the handle, lingering for far too long, lacing together. Haruka gives a little squeeze to Rin’s hand, before releasing his hold. She waits for him to turn and offer that hand to her--

Haruka spins on his heel and walks back into the house. 

Yori stares at her son’s retreating form, feeling the strangest sense of defeat and disappointment, although she is entirely unsure who those feelings are directed at. She’s afraid to think too hard about the answer.

Rin hovers in the doorway, suitcase in hand and chewing on his bottom lip. He raises his shoulders and hunches in on himself, like he’s preparing for a physical assault, but seeks out eye contact with Yori. “Please come in out of the rain, Nanase-san. Haru is just about to prepare tea.” He holds out his arm again, and this time Yori takes it.

 

**

 

Yori emerges from the guest room after freshening up, the room which happens to be Susumu’s and Haruka’s childhood bedroom. She hears noises coming from the other bedroom, the one she and Susumu used to share, even when her mother-in-law was alive. She had changed rooms when they had agreed to live with her, selflessly giving up the larger space she had shared with her husband, in order to make the newlyweds more comfortable. Once Haruka had come along, it was fortunate to have that extra space in their bedroom, although her mother-in-law had ended up rooming with Haruka more nights than not. Yori wonders how Haruka let his grandmother in so easily, but can’t, _won’t_ , let his own mother in now. 

She lifts her hand to rap at the door, as she pokes her head in to follow the sounds that lured her across the hallway, pausing her motion before she can make a noise. Haruka’s bare back is littered with the garish remnants of severe bruising, and Yori wonders how vivid the marks must have appeared right after the accident. He is grimacing and quietly huffing out small moans, as Rin wraps a large fabric bandage around his torso. 

“I’m sorry Haru, I know it hurts. I’m almost done and then we don’t have to do it again until tomorrow.” Rin’s low, soothing tones reach Yori’s ears, as she watches her son grip Rin’s thigh so hard his knuckles are white. Rin finishes securing the bandage in place, before he kneels behind Haruka and starts gently massaging his shoulders. “The doctor said you need to stay relaxed, that if you get too tense in your shoulders your ribs will hurt and your breathing will be more difficult.”

Haruka reaches his healthy right hand up to clutch at the fingers resting on his shoulder. He tilts his head back, while Rin stops his ministrations to duck his face down and press a kiss on the crown of Haruka’s head. He moves to the side, towards Haruka, their faces are only moments apart, Yori’s heart lurches into her throat. She doesn’t want to see this, can’t witness her injured son being defiled by another man. Haruka will never be able to find a proper wife, have a proper family, if he plays house in this manner. She remembers when this Rin went to Australia after endlessly babbling about becoming an Olympic swimmer, and wonders what brought him back to Japan. If he had stayed on a different continent, in a different hemisphere, Haruka could have begun a normal life earlier than this. He’s already so old, with nothing to show for it except a few extra years in the water and this dalliance in his grandmother’s home. Yori sends up a silent prayer of inquiry, sure that Haruka’s grandmother would disapprove of what is occurring right now in her home. Although as soon as she thinks that, she recalls how quickly his grandmother swooped in to rescue Haruka from anything that was bothering him, always ready with a hug and wise word to buoy his spirits. She believed everything Haruka did was exceptional, and she constantly told him how special he was to her. She expressed this to him so often, Yori felt it was her duty to keep him grounded.

Yori sharply knocks on the bedroom door, expecting to see two guilty boys spring away from each other. Instead, Haruka rapidly closes the distance between their faces, placing a quick kiss on the other’s lips, before standing with a wince. Rin stays kneeling stiffly on the mattress, looking uncomfortable to be interrupted but quite at home in Haru’s bed.

Haruka yanks a shirt over his head with a whimper, Yori longs to help him get dressed. Someone needs to come to his aid while he’s in this state. She gazes sternly over at the frozen redhead before striding over to her son. 

Yori tugs the shirt down gently, carefully over his wrapped torso. “Let me help you, Haruka.”

He flinches and takes a step back. “I’m fine.”

“Clearly you aren’t. Why isn’t he helping you get dressed?” The accusatory tone shoots out of her mouth, completely intentional. If Rin is man enough to take Haruka’s clothes off, he should be man enough to put them back on if his assistance is required.

“When you say ‘he’, do you mean Rin? Rin has a name and you’ve known Rin for years. And Rin has been instructed by the doctor to not baby me, that I should be working on getting dressed on my own at this point, that I shouldn’t be in so much pain that I can’t do it myself.” The storm is raging in Haruka’s eyes, his tone polite and controlled yet venomous. 

Yori heaves a steadying breath, keeping a rein on her emotions, like she was taught to do, like she has always done. She gives a tight nod, acknowledging Haruka’s point. “Very well. I am glad to see you’re healing and following the doctor’s instructions. You never were one for following the rules if you didn’t agree with them.”

Haruka snaps his head up at her, an incredulous expression on his face, eyes wide, eyebrows as high as they can go, mouth gaping open. “How do you know that?”

“I’m not a complete stranger, Haruka. I do still know something about you.” As the words creep past her lips, a small wave of shame passes over her, that her son is stunned at the concept that she is aware of his personality, his strengths, his flaws. He may be more mature, older, more capable of tackling adversity, but this is still the same child who clung to her hand and hid behind her leg when an adult approached them at the market. 

Haruka extends his arm to Rin, who grasps his hand and allows himself to be tugged into a standing position, before responding, although he mercifully lets that subject drop. “Let’s have tea.”

 

**

 

_Rin gazes at Haru, the stilted conversation around him melting into a muted background buzzing. He sees the tense line of Haru’s shoulders, the flat blue of his eyes, the clenching of his fists in his lap. He wants nothing more than to slide next to him, soothe away his stress, kiss away the irritation, but it would only make it worse._

_Haru is beautiful, magnetic, captivating. Rin isn’t sure when he began loving him, cannot pinpoint the exact moment he fell, but he knows he has always been pulled in to Haru’s orbit. Rin isn’t even sure what he loves the most about Haru, it’s the thousand little things that make Haru who he is. Perhaps it’s his singular focus on the freedom that water holds, the simple pleasure he finds in being surrounded by moisture. Maybe it’s the way his entire face lights up when he laughs, the sound hitting Rin’s ears like dozens of softly tinkling bells. It could be the tiny bites of food he takes, his meals taking him twice as long to finish as Rin, or the way he frames his chin when he’s deep in thought, like he’s got so many ideas he needs to hold his head up while he’s thinking them. Rin adores his ridiculously soft hair, his longer than average monkey toes, his uncanny skill of painting a sunset so it leaps off the canvas, his ability to know when Rin’s anxiety is building to critical mass and he can diffuse it by calmly laying a cool hand on a hunched shoulder._

_Rin can read Haru like a book. Though he isn’t a man who wastes his breath chattering and filling silences, Haru’s face usually betrays him, revealing his innermost thoughts, most of them painfully obvious to someone who has been studying the language for years. Right now, years of abandonment, loneliness, longing for guidance and assistance, have risen from where they have been long-buried, and are written clearly across the sharp planes of Haru’s flawless face. Haru is not, has never been, immune to turbulence, to needing a steady hand to pull him through to calmer waters, yearning for someone older and wiser who can assure him that this too shall pass. Haru was forced into being his own voice of reason far too young, and the cause of that accelerated maturation is sitting primly across from him at the table. If Rin could merely skip this chapter, assured that by flipping past it Haru could avoid dealing with all this, he would._

_His heart as heavy as lead and lodged in his gut, Rin realizes he initiated this situation. Despite his upbringing and how horrified his own mother would be, he has a vicious desire to physically throw Haru’s mother out of this house, far away from her son. He wishes to keep her at such a distance that she cannot navigate her way back no matter how hard she tries, a distance she began imposing when Haru was a child. She has left Haru so many times, and Rin brought her here so she could emotionally strand him again, assure him of what Haru has already known this entire time; there’s nothing about Haru that could ever convince his mother to be his home, his roots, his anchor, the familiar safe space of childhood that he can nuzzle into when Life gets too damn hard. No wonder Haru is not bothered that his mother will never accept his career, his choices, his partner; he was a child the last time she gave him a reason to weigh her opinions above his own._

_The usual apathy Haru exhibits towards the subject of his parents is currently replaced by obvious anger, Rin can see it’s barely being restrained. He wonders if it’s just that much harder to act dismissive of his own flesh and blood when she is sharing his space or if there is something else at play, something Rin cannot discern from the fierce, raging expression in Haru’s eyes. Something far more unsettling._

_It is possible that there’s the tiniest part of Haru that is letting his mother’s thoughts infiltrate. Rin would enjoy smugly assuring himself that he’s never worried that Haru regrets his choice of partners; in his weaker moments he’s panicked that he’s not enough for the effortless effervescent shine of Haru, but it’s never been because of his gender. He was comfortable with his sexuality before he was comfortable with Haru. Yet, in the face of open disapproval, disappointment, and rejection from his mother, perhaps Haru is reevaluating his choices, wanting to stop drowning in the hurricane of Rin that has swept him along to this point. This poisonous thought wriggles into his brain and spreads its roots, taking hold faster than it should given how long they have been together, committed, and so deeply in love there’s not an inch of Rin’s soul that hasn’t been blanketed by Haru’s warmth._

_Haru absorbed most of the physical injuries from the car accident, but perhaps the most damage will be sustained in the aftermath, weeks later, at the hands of Haru’s mother. Rin thought the worst was behind them, isn’t sure what he’ll do if there’s nothing in front of them._

 

**

 

Yori watches her son attempt to control himself in the exact same manner as his father. She sees the fists, the tight mouth, the aggressive swallowing down of words that he will regret. She idly wonders if he would regret anything said to her in this moment. She is aware she overstepped, that she voiced the very thing she should not have said out loud. She has always been so cautious to make it clear she does not approve of this, of them, without actually having to speak specific, indicting words. Though tradition and society are on her side, her goal has never been to push Haruka so much that he disappears. Quite the opposite; she is his mother and believes in her very soul that Haruka can benefit from her guidance, her experiences, her more mature awareness of the hurdles and walls he is actively throwing himself against. She loves him too much to watch him suffer, make the wrong decisions, choose the path that leads to unhappiness and dreams unfulfilled, struggles he could choose to not endure.

Yori peers over at where Rin slumps against the doorway, looking like he wants to melt into the wall and disappear from the kitchen. He looks so similar to the last time she truly saw him, years and years ago, when he had slept over in this very same house. Haruka had begged her to let Rin spend the night since he was leaving for Australia so soon, her son rarely pleading for anything. In the middle of the night, Rin had stumbled into the kitchen, chaotic red hair sticking up around his head like a distorted halo, face soaked with tears and white as a sheet, hands trembling as his fingers wound around themselves in jerking, fidgety movements. She doesn’t remember why she was awake, but she recalls his apology and immediate retreat, biting his lip and shaking his head when she made a move towards him, eyes huge in his cherubic face. Then he had darted back up the stairs, presumably to Haruka’s room. When she checked in on them a few minutes later, Rin was laying in bed, her son wrapped around him from behind, forehead pressed into the back of his friend’s neck, holding him more tightly than she’d ever seen Haruka embrace anything.

Yori is hit with the realization of what she witnessed that night from two young boys, what is still present today between these two men. That night, Haruka was shielding Rin from whatever monsters had frightened him, shaken him from slumber, and lingered on the edges of his dreams. Tonight, he will do it again for the monsters that emerge when they are awake.

 

**

 

_“Haruka, you need to come to your senses before your choices are permanent. Do you know what people think of men like Rin? Who he is and what he does are wrong. You aren’t like that, you aren’t the problem here. Leave the mistakes behind and find yourself someone that I can accept and welcome into our family.”_

 

**

 

Yori flinches when Haruka stands abruptly from the table, pushing away so hard his unfinished tea sloshes over the rim of his cup. “I think you need to apologize.”

“For what, Haruka?” Yori is not sorry for her thoughts and opinions, she is only sorry she finally gave them a voice.

Her son glares at her, not a shred of respect in his stance or the tilt of his chin. “For what you just said about Rin.”

“Haruka-”

“No,” demands Haruka, interrupting Yori, cutting off an adult for probably the first time in his entire life if his slightly shocked expression is anything to go by. “If you hate me that much, then talk to me about it. Don’t take it out on Rin. I wasn’t going to tell you about the accident, I didn’t need to see you. But Rin thought you should know, he thought a mother would care about her son being injured. You should be thanking him, not insulting him.”

“Haruka, don’t-”

“Apologize!” Haruka shouts, before remembering who he is talking to. He lowers his eyes from Yori’s face. “Please, Mother.”

Yori regrets not keeping hold of her self-control. This is why she does not speak often, her words are never intended to make Haruka feel this badly, to make him think she hates him in any way. She is disappointed and frustrated at some of his choices, and how she and her son seem to be locked in a stalemate; she’s not quite sure how they got here and what brought this discord roiling to the surface. She cannot help but ponder what else there is to Haruka that she is unaware of, what else lies below his stoic exterior, what he keeps hidden from others. “I don’t hate you, Haruka.”

“I don’t care,” hisses Haru, which slaps Yori in the face with a possibility she never considered. He skirts around the edge the table, she thinks he is coming over to her, to undo whatever damage he thinks he has just done with his irreverence. 

Yori waits for him. She is light-headed, she’s not sure she heard Haruka correctly. There is a faint ringing in her ears where there should be the silence she craves. She waits for guidance, for the rules to be explained to her so she can navigate this new terrain she finds herself thrust into. She hasn’t had to actively parent in so long, much less reason with her adult son, she is on shaky ground and has no idea which way is the right way. She knows the rules of interacting with peers, and she never would have let her tongue run away with her in polite conversation, but this is _Haruka_ , her child, not truly another adult. He’s still just a boy. Surely he must know she has his best interests at heart. She gave birth to him; she and Susumu worked tirelessly to make sure he had food, clothes, shelter, that’s worth something.

Haruka shuffles past Yori, who unconsciously lifts her arms slightly in anticipation of the apologetic embrace, not even looking her direction. He stops in front of Rin, blindly grabbing for his hands while pushing his forehead against Rin’s. She hears whispered words that aren’t intended for her, created in a moment that is entirely their own. Haruka doesn’t care if she hears or not. He doesn’t care. He brings his thumbs up to wipe away errant tears on Rin’s cheeks, then gently kisses the damp closed eyelids in front of him. She turns her head, she is intruding on this private moment, but knows Haruka is well aware that she is watching. Yori is positive she has never witnessed such a tender demonstration from her son in all the years she’s known him. 

Another punch to the gut. How many years _has_ she known him, truly known him? She was a constant presence in his life at the beginning, like all mothers, this doesn’t make her unique, but then she pulled away. This has never bothered her before, not really, she likes her life, she is comfortable with how she has lived it. But being faced with a grown man who clearly also has a life he’s cultivated and is pleased with, perhaps there’s a chasm within her she did not know existed. If she had been more present, perhaps Haruka would not be who he is today, would not have turned out like this.

“Mother,” begins Haruka, pulling Yori from her self-recrimination in order to face this child who created himself, who turned himself into a man, who forged ahead when there was no one to sagely guide him forward. He stands defensively in front of Rin now, blocking him from Yori’s barbs. “I am sorry for yelling. You don’t deserve that.”

“You are forgiven, Haruka. I don’t blame you for being frustrated, I was out of line.” Her feelings are genuine, she is sorry she hurt Haruka. 

“I take back what I said. Neither of us need an apology from you that’s founded in a lie. But if you ever call Rin a mistake or a problem again, or imply there’s anything about him that’s wrong, I’m afraid those are the last words I’ll allow myself to hear from you again.” Haruka is relaxed but firm, there’s no wavering in his stance or his tone. Yori senses the steady, calming power radiating off of him in waves. He is so tall and sure of himself, so grown and mature. This is no child. “You will always be the woman who gave birth to me, and I never wanted for anything materially when I was growing up. I’m grateful for that, that’s no small thing.”

There is more to this speech, Yori knows there’s another shoe waiting to drop, one graced with the label of “mother”, which Haruka deems as a category that needs to be earned and maintained. Deep down, in a place rarely examined, Yori fears that he’s correct, he understands more about being a parent than she does after technically holding that role for more than two decades. She has underestimated him, his quiet strength, his resolve, his capacity to care so deeply he aches. 

“We’re going to bed now, it’s late and you are probably exhausted from traveling.” Haruka holds Rin’s hand, they are a united front before her. “If you don’t want to be around us, tomorrow morning we’ll help you find someplace else to stay while you’re in Iwatobi. Good night, Mother.” 

Halfway out the door, Rin stops to spin back towards Yori. He licks his bottom lip, still vaguely resembling the trembling, nightmare-ridden child in her memory. “I hope you choose to stay, Nanase-san.”

 

**

 

_They lay together, seeking comfort, searching for home. Rin is hesitant but Haru assures him he’ll be fine, that he feels healthy enough to do this and he most certainly doesn’t care who’s across the hall. Haru slips into Rin, Rin holds Haru, they breathe together, inhaling each other. He can’t believe he doubted Haru for even a moment; nothing could shake Haru’s commitment, his steely resolve, the promises he’s sighed into Rin over and over again throughout their years together._

_“I’m sorry, Haru,” gasps Rin, ashamed at how unsettled this whole evening made him._

_Haru hushes him with his mouth, pressing kisses along his jaw, under his ear, down his neck. “I love you. No one’s going to change how I feel because they don’t like it.”_

_“But Haru-” Rin’s words are lost as Haru uses his hands to distract and redirect him, Rin completely losing his train of thought in favor of sensation and warmth and the comfort of knowing he is accepted from the inside out. Rin chases pleasure, chases anything Haru gives him. Everything from Haru is worthy of cherishing, savoring, admiring._

_Haru leans in impossibly further, so that nothing separates them but heat and comfort and desire. “I would love you if you were a woman, a man, or a fuzzy pink alien. It doesn’t matter to me, I love you because you’re you, Rin.” Each word is punctuated with movement, Haru ensuring Rin feels the truth pouring into him._

_“I bet you could love me more if I was a fish or a mermaid or something,” jokes Rin, determined to stave off the lurking tears with humor. His eyes are pricking at the edges, everything is tight and his toes are tingling, and he wants to shut his eyes and swim in everything he’s feeling, it’s so close. He forces himself to watch Haru, blue eyes so full, so unguarded, so gorgeous. He loves Haru so much he isn’t even sure how to describe it anymore, he truly no longer grasps what’s his and what’s Haru’s. All their rough edges and cracks have flowed together and rubbed away until they began to slot together seamlessly, sharing everything, holding nothing back._

_“Impossible,” mumbles Haru, kissing Rin through his emotional release. “I couldn’t love you any more than I already do.”_

 

**

 

Yori is fairly certain she only snatched bits of sleep here and there, the words from Haruka echoing in her mind all night long. She will stay here with Haruka and Rin, she knows that much. If nothing else, she wants to see her son happy and at ease, especially as he’s still healing from physical injuries. While she’s here, somehow they need to mend the emotional damage that she has caused over the years. He clearly still has his vast capacity to love and nurture, capabilities he had already as a toddler, which makes Yori happy in a way she didn’t know she needed, but leaves her with a stinging ache that none of that adoration is sent in her direction. She understands on a fundamental level that it’s there, that she could earn it if she chooses, that underneath all Haruka’s tough words, he will always have a space for her. He’s now laid out his boundaries, a set of parameters within which Yori can operate.

Haruka has drawn a clear line in the sand, there is no middle ground to be found when it comes to the person, the _man_ , he chooses to share his life with. Yori understands what Haruka did yesterday, declaring his stance with actions more than with words. He may have lost his temper and vocalized some thoughts, but his physical intentions were much clearer to her. It’s the biggest trait she passed on to him, after all. There is no space in Haruka’s heart for anyone who doesn’t accept Rin. He’s not asking her to walk Haru down the aisle, nor advocate for their relationship with a sandwich board and ringing a bell. He’s merely pleading for a level of tolerance and basic human decency in their presence, an armistice of sorts, until Yori can reach further than that. She is not sure she can go beyond that, it’s hard enough to be this far past her comfort level. Only her immense craving for Haruka to lessen the apathy he feels towards her has Yori assessing his lifestyle from anything even faintly considered an open mind.

Yori wants Haruka in her life. She has wasted enough time. She needs to earn his trust back. Filled with doubt, but determined to put forth all the effort she can muster, Yori opens her door to begin a new day.

She hears them before she sees them once she reaches the bottom of the stairs. A hearty guffaw booms throughout the kitchen, spilling out to reach all the corners of the house. A smile tugs on the corners of Yori’s mouth, she hasn’t heard such rich, unabashed laughter in a long time. Polite, corporate chuckling is about as far as it gets in her world, and this sound makes her heart grow in her chest. Her face falls when she realizes she has no idea whether Haruka or Rin made that joyous sound. It doesn’t seem like her son’s style; she imagines his laugh is still a little more reserved, quieter but not restrained, his eyes showcasing his mirth more than any sound he could produce.

Upon walking into the kitchen, she has her answers. Haruka’s eyes are sparkling and alive as he holds a jar of some unknown substance just out of Rin’s reach. Rin appears as though he could overpower Haruka if he wanted to, use the counter for leverage, but he’s giggling too hard to accomplish anything, while clearly trying to avoid putting any strain on her son’s torso.

“Don’t be an idiot, you’ll hurt yourself, give it back,” admonishes Rin, ineffectual in the face of his laugh-induced weakness.

Haruka frowns, eyes still dancing. “I am doing you a favor. No one needs to eat this. You haven’t been in Australia for years and it’s an expensive import, let it go. I’m begging, Rin.”

“I don’t force you to eat it!” Rin exclaims, while jumping up just high enough to pluck the jar cleanly from Haruka’s hand.

Haruka rests his hand on his side with a pained expression. “Ow. See what I’m willing to suffer so you don’t eat that?”

Rin rolls his eyes while unscrewing the bright yellow lid. He takes a deep inhale and grabs a spoon off the counter. “Mmm, hope you don’t mind if I dig right in.”

Yori isn’t sure what possesses her to speak up at that moment. It might be the exaggerated look of disgust on her son’s face, or the fact that she has no idea what is in that jar, but it’s a compulsion she can’t ignore. “Would you like a piece of toast for that, Rin?” Two faces swivel in her direction, wearing matching expressions of surprise, which would be amusing if it wasn’t so telling. “Something tells me whatever that is would be better used as a spread.”

Rin places the jar on the counter with a thunk and drops the spoon next to it. “I’d love some toast, Nanase-san.”

Haruka locates the a loaf of bread and holds it out for Yori. “I can make the toast, Mother.”

Rin scoffs loudly. “Where was that offer five minutes ago, hmm? You could learn a thing or two from your mom.”

Yori raises her eyebrows, picking up on the easy banter and teasing. There is something comforting about being around these two, a simplicity to their rhythm. It reminds her of being with Susumu, a natural ebb and flow to the conversation as they work around each other and with each other, falling on old habits and a sense of humor to create small moments of contentment within their house. She wasn’t expecting to find a sense of familiarity in this home, at least not one created by Haruka and Rin, but it’s what surrounds her.

“Shoo,” scolds Yori, as she motions them both away from the toaster. “Why don’t you set the table, do something useful instead of bickering.”

Both boys, _men_ , Yori reminds herself for what seems like the hundredth time in the last day, scurry into motion, putting out plates and napkins and a knife to spread--

“Rin?” Yori inquires with a grimace, as she holds the jar. “What is this?”

Rin bursts out into unrestrained laughter once more as his eyes fall on Yori’s face. “Haru, you’re the spitting image of your mother. Now I know where you got your Vegemite face!” He coughs and composes himself slightly in order to actually answer the question. “Its a yeast and vegetable spread from Australia. It’s basically solid salt with a sort of bitter flavor added to it? I bring a jar with me when we go anywhere. It’s really good once you’re used to it. Haru hates it with the burning passion of a million suns.”

Yori brings three slices of toast over to the table and takes a seat. Haruka and Rin sit as well, and she hands them each a piece. Before either of them can do anything, she grabs the jar of Vegemite and begins to spread it on her toast. The dual jaw drops return, however, Haruka’s is laced with disbelief while Rin’s holds a combination of smug glee.

“Haru! There’s a Nanase eating Vegemite in the Nanase family kitchen. So jot that down.” Rin’s face is radiant and Yori decides it suits him. He’s a far cry from the overwhelmed child she remembers, he appears every bit the man she knows he is.

Haruka leans forward towards Rin, not looking in Yori’s direction, which stings until she catches on to the game. “I don’t think so, Rin.”

Rin splutters and his eyes grow comically huge. “What! It’s happening right now!”

Vision fixed determinedly on his partner, Haru shakes his head with a smirk. “Nope, I don’t think so. I didn’t see it, so you can’t prove it. No self-respecting Nanase would ever eat that.”

“I don’t believe you right now! Turn your head, look at your mother!”

“Hmmm, you can’t make me look at anything.”

Rin throws his arm towards Yori, still holding on to his own naked toast in such a way it flies out of his hand and lands on her now-empty plate. Haruka glances over to see a plain slice of toast on Yori’s plate, a grin lighting up his face, a chuckle barely contained as he bites his lip.

“I see plain toast, Rin. Nanases don’t eat Vegemite.” Haruka presses his lips together to keep his not-so-straight face in place and Rin shakes his head.

“You’re lucky I can’t tickle you right now, get the truth out of you.” Rin winks dramatically, before abruptly leaning back to grab his glass of water and chug a few gulps down, while stealing a guilty glance over at Yori. He coughs and wipes water off his chin, pinning his gaze on Haruka.

Yori slides away from the table, bringing her plate to the sink. She hears muttering behind her and takes her time puttering with the dish, since they obviously think she can’t hear them.

“Rin, you don’t have to try so hard.”

“I’m not, I actually forgot, and it felt normal for awhile. I didn’t mean to wink at you though.”

“It’s fine, you should act how you want. If she doesn’t want to be here, she can leave. Just be yourself.”

“I love you, Haru.”

“I know, I love you too.”

The easy tempo of breakfast is lost for Yori as she comes back to clear the rest of the dishes. She doesn’t want them to feel uncomfortable but clearly they are trying to be on their best behavior, put on a controlled performance for her, despite Haruka’s private insistence that they act naturally. Haruka tries to get her to leave the dishes, but she insists on cleaning up. This whole process will take longer than she wants, to get her son to trust her and let her in.

It will be worth it.

 

**

 

_“How’re you doing?” Rin asks as they lay in bed one night, like he does every night since the accident, though this time he isn’t curious about Haru’s physical pain levels._

_Haru blinks at him, a tiny furrow between his eyebrows. “She’s been here for a week. I wonder if she’s leaving any time soon.”_

_Rin’s own eyebrows raise in curiosity but he waits for a longer and more in-depth answer. Even for him, Haru has been tight-lipped this week, not saying much of anything behind closed doors, hiding his emotions better than he’s been able to since they were much younger. Rin assumes he is still frustrated at himself for losing control with his mother on the same night she arrived, however sometimes his presumptions about his partner are completely wrong, so he has learned to wait for Haru to give voice to his thoughts._

_Despite being the target of scorn a few days ago, Rin senses something changed for Haru’s mother after Haru came to his defense that night. She has spent most moments since then like she’s trying to find a level of comfort with them, to relearn who her son is, to grapple with her own fears and beliefs. Rin doesn’t care if she never accepts him, he will absorb all her ire if it means she is willing to take a chance on loving Haru. Haru deserves a mother who adores him, dotes on him, scolds him for not eating enough, checks in to make sure he’s getting the sleep he needs to stay healthy. He certainly should have a mother who isn’t ashamed of him for being a swimmer or an artist, for living with a man, for choosing not to be a corporate drone with two and a half children in a house by the sea. Haru fights hard to discover what he wants out of life, battles to accomplish everything he’s earned, continues to shield Rin from judgment because he knows Rin is too scared of losing the socially acceptable image he’s cultivated._

_“I don’t want to get my hopes up,” trails off Haru, again leaving Rin waiting with bated breath to capture the thoughts that will inevitably spill from his mouth given enough time to gather them, process them, and admit them to the one person he trusts to understand. “But I think something is different now. I feel like she is trying to get to know us, me and you. I keep remembering things in flashes, happy things, like when she used to poke at my belly with her spoon when she thought I hadn’t had a big enough breakfast or when she would always kiss me goodnight one last time after tucking me in and turning out the light.”_

_“Those are really sweet things, Haru, those are the kinds of memories you should have about your mom.” Rin has never heard either of those things before, and they remind him of a billion pleasant memories he’s got just like those with both his mother and his father, separately and together. He is unbelievably happy that Haru has at least a few things from his childhood that aren’t mired in loneliness, things that have remained buried until this week._

_“My mom.” Haru sounds like he’s trying the term out, seeing if his mouth can even form itself into the correct shape to say the word. “A mom is someone like your mother. Someone who invites your friends over after school and feeds them snacks, and who plays in the sandbox because she’s willing to get her knees dirty, and gives you a hug after you have a dumb fight with a friend. A mom is someone who loves you so hard you want to push her away because you need some space from her loving you so much. A mom is someone who comes to your swim meets to cheer you on because she supports you, whatever you’re doing, whoever you are. I’ve never had a mom, Rin.”_

_Rin is anguished over the facts he’s just been presented with, all things he already knew but are tragic when laid out in this manner, all the tiny little ways Haru was alone for most of his childhood, isolated from affection. He is pleased that he was a pushy, demanding brat that shoved his way into Haru’s life, although he hasn’t regretted leaving for Australia this much in years. Not for the first time, Rin is thankful to every deity that exists that Haru accepted him back into his life; he’s never before been so grateful that in saving Rin, Haru also saved himself, with his own resilience and immense capacity to love. If Haru could reach out after Rin abandoned him, shamefully like so many other people in his life, then there is definite hope for Haru to open his heart to his mother, if she continues to try to create a space within it, if she opens her own heart back up to her son. “If it makes a difference, I think she’s trying to make up for some of that now. She didn’t leave when you told her she could. That counts for something, Haru. I think it means she wants to accept you, even if it’s hard for her. It means she’s making an effort.”_

_Haru nods into his pillow. “That’s big, isn’t it?”_

_“It’s huge,” agrees Rin. He leans forward to kiss Haru’s forehead before he drifts off to sleep, and Haru scoots across the mattress to nuzzle closer. Rin almost misses the next thing Haru says, it’s so quiet and murmured directly into his chest._

_“If she doesn’t accept you too, it doesn’t mean anything to me.”_

 

**

 

The remainder of the second week is spent much like that first morning, Yori seeing snippets of Haruka and Rin’s relationship and the temporary routine they’ve built while they are healing. She meets many of their friends as they trickle in to visit, a few she remembers, and Rin’s mother and sister, all guests wordlessly bearing witness to how very loved and appreciated both men are, individually and as a pair. Yori also gets glimpses of how they are alone together. She learns that Haruka eats the same breakfast every day and that Rin hardly has an appetite when he wakes up, which means Haruka takes the time to create an especially calorie dense snack for him in the middle of the morning. She notices how Rin brings home the latest publication of Water Journal for Haruka during a trip to the market for dinner ingredients. She watches Haruka come up behind Rin, after he’s taken a shower and gotten dressed, carrying a small towel that he drapes across Rin’s shoulders. When he sees her staring, he explains that Rin never takes the time to dry his hair but hates when his collar gets damp, then shrugs with a resigned grin and plants a fond kiss on Rin’s forehead.

By the end of the week, Yori realizes that Haruka falls asleep on the couch in the early afternoon every day, and watches how Rin always covers him with a blanket as soon as he notices, tucking it in around Haruka’s perpetually bare feet. It is during one of these times that Yori grabs his attention before he can escape on a run. She pats the loveseat next to her. Rin’s eyes open wide in skeptical curiosity, but he sits next to her.

Rin fidgets with his hands and nervously bounces his knee, Yori would chuckle at the thought that he looks like he’s waiting to hear the sentence handed down by the jury for some crime he’s committed, but the joke falls flat even in her own mind. Yori has probably made him feel like a prisoner these past two weeks; despite his easy laughs and willingness to continuously extend the olive branch, she can tell it is taking a toll and that he’s getting resistance from Haruka. He looks exhausted and Yori is guilty of making it worse, despite the small inroads that have been created over the last few days.

“Rin,” begins Yori, reaching over to clasp his twitching hand. “I want to thank you. From contacting me about the car accident, to extending your hospitality towards me while I’ve been here. I am deeply appreciative for all your efforts.”

Rin shakes his head, brushing off her comments, which she intends to stop immediately.

“How are you doing? Neither of you has talked about the accident at all. How are you feeling?” Yori gives the large, warm hand in her grip a comforting squeeze. She has always been more tactile than verbal, but somehow she is sure that Rin needs both to settle.

Rin audibly swallows and blinks quickly, his guard is not just falling, it’s crumbling to the ground and leaving nothing but dust in its wake. Panic surges through her as his breathing hitches and tears fill his eyes, she wasn’t expecting this. He lifts his eyes to hers and she is swept away into the past, these eyes have bored into hers in this exact manner before, wet and scared and so full, and she did nothing to assuage his fears the last time. She allowed him to escape and retreat to her son, who did his best to comfort and protect his friend. She wonders how many of Rin’s tears he’s dried over the years, patiently and tenderly, always with love. And how often has Rin done the same for Haruka? She yearns to know what makes Haruka so upset he cannot contain the angst anymore, his feelings spilling down his cheeks in painful rivulets. Somehow, she knows down in her very core that her son never suffers alone, that this man in front of her is always by his side, ready to be the strong one when Haruka falters, capable and willing to pick him up when he falls.

Yori has seen this week how much Haruka and Rin steady each other, how painfully similar their relationship is to hers and Susumu’s. Somehow, she has held Rin accountable for forcing his will onto her son, changing his dreams and desires around to fit the specific shape of Rin’s, when in actuality, what Rin wants is simply also what Haruka wants. They are two people in the same orbit, their goals and dreams and hopes line up in such a way that they are nothing short of compatible, and really they are so much more than that. They are partners in a way she doesn’t quite grasp as possible between two people. Yori is not blind, but she very well could be for how she has failed to see the affection and commitment that rolls off these two men in waves. Their love for each other is palpable, a tangible force that surrounds them in a hundred tiny little details, with soft glances, a passing touch on the wrist, a heart-shaped note tucked into a shoe. She didn’t want to see it, that’s the painful truth. If she ignored it, it might go away, and that is the most shameful thought of all.

Before spending time with them, Yori would have been content, even pleased, to hear that Haruka is no longer with Rin. She would have been fine with him abandoning someone who clearly adores him and takes care of him, and who Haruka adores and cares for in turn. Yori never knew, she never cared to learn. She still is not completely comfortable with the idea of two men fraternizing, knows she might never be, but it’s impossible for her to be around them and not bask in their relationship. They are not merely two men in love, they are Haruka and Rin, and what they have is plucked from love poems and sappy songs and could be the ending of a romantic movie, except Yori is hit with the fact that she has no idea how they got here. She is watching the ending, hearing the closing track of the film right before the credits start to roll, but she missed the majority of the story. She knows the very start, their youthful beginnings, but the plot eludes her. At some point she walked out of the theater, knowing the reel would keep rolling without her, time impossible to get back.

“In the car, before help came, I thought I was losing him, I thought I was losing someone else. I don’t know if I could have come back from that,” whispers Rin, choking out an answer. He leans forward and Yori opens her arms, realizing she is completely opening her heart at the same time. She doesn’t realize she’s also crying until she shifts her cheek and notices that Rin’s hair is damp. _Haruka could have been lost forever._ She cards through the unfamiliar hair, soothing both herself and the person in her arms, feeling the sharp sting of regret that she didn’t do this for a younger Rin who stumbled into her kitchen in the middle of the night a lifetime ago. 

She shifts her head towards the couch to find shining blue eyes awake and locked on her, watching the scene unfurl before him. Yori has a split second to make the right choice, she is certain she has made too many wrong ones to count when it comes to motherhood. She keeps one arm firmly around Rin, but moves her hand out of his hair to reach out to her son, inviting him into the hug, to be part of this moment. Haruka huffs out a breath, his face reminds her of his fifth birthday, and he slips off the couch to join them. He hesitates briefly, before he drops down on the loveseat and allows himself to be safely tucked under Yori’s arm. She squeezes them both as tightly as she can, mindful of lingering injuries, suddenly longing to never have to let either of them go, wishing they were still smaller, younger, needing her protection. 

Yori has never created her own rules, never made too many of her own decisions without considering what someone else wants; what her parents or husband desire has always been the only choice for her. She is not entirely convinced Haruka needs her the way she now needs him, with a burning ache deep within her. How did she ever let him get away, no, how did she _walk away_? Susumu left the decision in her hands and she fumbled it. Yori never should have left after Haruka’s grandmother died. She could have split her time, she could have traveled back and forth, she could have uprooted Haruka and never left him behind. _How did she ever leave him behind_? 

Rin sniffles and lifts his head, reaching over to pat Haruka's knee, who meets his gaze with a soft smile. Yori simultaneously sees them as children as well as the grown men that they are. She mourns the time she's missed but is determined to not let any more escape her clutches. They may not need an authority figure leading them on their paths to adulthood, they've both accomplished that already. Haruka has become a man worthy of praise, he's generous and kind and educated, and a contributing member of society, and he's done it without her, he was forced to do most of it alone. He's found someone to share his life with, someone equally worthy of admiration. She's so proud of Haruka, yet wishes she'd played a larger part. Perhaps he's done a better job raising himself without Yori meddling and making hands-on parenting mistakes. Despite being aware of all that, Yori is experienced enough to know they will always need someone in their corner championing on their behalf, accepting them, loving them, protecting them from things that are bigger than scraped knees and dropped ice cream cones and poor test scores. Yori has failed Haruka in so many ways, she will not let him down again, even if it costs her everything. What is everything even worth if she doesn't have her son in her life? Now that she's rediscovering him, she'll cherish him in the way he's always deserved from her. 

Yori tentatively presses a kiss into her son's head, hoping it's not too bold a move, but wearily understanding if it's rejected. When Haruka stays put in her arms, she finally grasps what she thinks she was supposed to feel on the day of his birth. Her heart is fit to burst and she's amazed her chest can contain it. She wants to cry, she wants to laugh, she wants to sleep, she doesn’t want to miss a moment; she wants to stare in awestruck wonder at this child she cradles, who accepts her despite all her flaws and mistakes. In a fit of maternal confidence, she leans over to plant a light kiss on Rin as well. She feels him smile against her arm, sees her boys weave their fingers together in her lap, and her love for them swells impossibly bigger. Somehow, in finding Haruka, she's gained another son and a heart that didn't fully realize its potential until this moment. 

“I love you, Haruka.” Yori breathes it into her son's hair, a declaration and a promise, an oath to do right by him for the rest of her days. If that means shaking up everything she thought she understood up until now, then so be it. She is certain it’s time to face adulthood in a way she never has before, a way she’s never faced _Life_ before. Yori can create rules for herself, start chiseling a tiny world for herself in which she alone decides what she wants and how she will chase those things; carving her own paths doesn’t mean she can’t be a good wife. Perhaps becoming mentally stronger for herself will make her a _better_ wife, a true partner instead of a sidekick, a shadow, which she suddenly fears is how Susumu might perceive her. He adores her, appreciates her, relies on her, but she doubts he views her as an equal, the way Rin so clearly sees Haruka. She doesn’t know, she’s never asked, but she will no longer avoid the answer. 

The knowledge that Susumu does not approve of Haruka’s lifestyle, his choices, his career, all things Yori herself felt deeply before seeing how happy and fulfilled her son is, sits like a stone. Her own guilt weighs on her, she isn’t sure if she’s truly accepting beyond Haruka and Rin; her beliefs have been entrenched for years, she’s not sure how quickly she can change or even if she fully wants to. Right now her focus is herself and her family, the journey must begin somewhere. There are choices to be made, opposing sides, someone needs to stand in the middle and bridge the gap, end the apathy and distance and bring this family back together. No matter what, she knows she will protect Haruka, and she has learned that begins with embracing and defending the man he loves.

This emotional upheaval is uncomfortable, it’s slightly terrifying if Yori is completely honest with herself, but she is certain she’s already taken the first step. Despite her doubts, the underlying thread that someone else would do a better job of steering her life, she is determined to face this challenge head on, like her son would. She’s so very proud of him, perhaps one day he’ll be proud of her, maybe she’ll even be proud of herself. Yori wants to be better, she knows she can be, for herself, for Susumu, for Haruka. Especially Haruka. He’s worth it, he will forever be worth it. Haruka has always been the most valuable thing in her life, she just didn’t understand.

“I love you too, Mom.”

 

**

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> This verse was always meant to include Mama Nanase POV. I went into this loathing her a great deal (talking about her actually brought me to tears once, that's how strongly I feel about this woman). That being said, this took a long time to write, and some parts of it stalled as I struggled to get into her mindset. My ultimate goal was to flesh her out, give her character some background (since we canonically have none), provide some rationale for why she made some of the decisions she made in re: her role in her son’s life. I wanted to take the little that we do know and make her better, allow her to grow into the mother that adult Haru deserves. I found writing this to be quite cathartic, and I can now view her through a more understanding lens. If I squint. Even if you don’t accept all my hc about her, I hope you don’t dislike her quite as much by the end.


End file.
